


The Sleepover

by f-ing-ruthless-baz (my_mad_fatuation)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Awkwardness, Dogs, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Secret Crush, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 03:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mad_fatuation/pseuds/f-ing-ruthless-baz
Summary: “Sleep over? Please?”-----Baz has had a secret crush on his classmate, Simon, for a while now, but this past week was the first time they'd ever spend any real time together, all for a school project. But now that the project is over, Baz wants a reason for Simon to stay.





	The Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came as a request on tumblr for Fluff #9 from [this list of sentence starters](https://f-ing-ruthless-baz.tumblr.com/post/183547405517/sentence-starters), which I used as the first line of the story. (I'm not sure if I was required to, but I did anyway.) Thank you for the request!!
> 
> So, for vague reasons, I made this a non-magic AU, set in present day (2019), but they are 16, because I thought it made more sense to use the word "sleepover" at 16 than 22? I have no idea, just go with it.
> 
> Also, I don't know how to write dogs because I've never had one--I've never even met one! I don't know what dogs look like! IS THIS A PIGEON?? Uhhhhh, anyway, I love this dog now. For the record.

“Sleep over? Please?”

I felt pathetic for asking, but Simon and I had just finished up the work for our English presentation, and as I watched him say his goodbyes to Blueberry—my family’s greyhound—I knew I wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.

Things were going to go back to the way they were before we got assigned to this project together, and I didn’t want that to happen. I’d spent more time with Simon in the past week than I had my entire life, at school with him for years. And it was now clear to me that my crush on him wasn’t solely physical attraction.

I liked looking at Simon, of course. A lot. I always had. Even back when looking at him made me feel like I was going to boil over with preteen rage—I didn’t understand what I was feeling back then, so everything just sort of defaulted to rage.

But now I was sixteen, and I knew what it meant, that I liked looking at Simon so much. (Especially at the moment, while he sat on the ground, scratching Blueberry’s head and rubbing her face and telling her she was “such a good girl,” and how he was going to miss her so much. Fucking adorable.)

After this week, however, I realized that I also liked talking to Simon a lot, and I was scared that I would have no more reason to talk to him once this presentation was over on Monday. So I’d blurted out the first thing I could think to get him to stay later, considering it was already rather late. The thing I wanted most. (Well, maybe second most.)

“You want me to… sleep over?” Simon looked up at me from his seat on the floor, though he kept Blueberry’s face in his hands. “Tonight?”

I leaned back in my chair at the kitchen table, trying to seem as nonchalant as I could in order to counterbalance the desperate-sounding, _“please,”_ from a moment ago. “Well, it’s pretty late, and this way your mum won’t have to drive all the way out here and back in the dark.” (It was a flimsy excuse, but I needed _something_.)

“Er, I mean, I don’t think she’d mind, since it’s not that much later than I said I’d be—”

“You’re right, sorry, never mi—”

“—But I could probably sleep over anyway, if you want.”

 _Of course I want_. But I didn’t want it to seem like this was all just about what I wanted—even though it was. I also didn’t want Simon to go, though.

“It would give us a chance to go over our presentation again in the morning, anyway,” I said. “Just to make sure we’re ready for Monday—”

“Baz,” he cut in, giving me a _cut the crap_ look. “If you want me to stay, then I will. I just need to let my mum know, but she’ll be fine with it.”

“You don’t have to—”

“ _Baz_.”

“ _Yes_. Okay?” I said with a huff of impatience. “I want you to stay, because it’s Saturday night and I have no life, apparently.”

That made Simon chuckle as he returned his attention to the dog. “You and me both, buddy.”

I tried not to stare at him while he got out his mobile to text his mum. I could hardly believe this worked. I also had no idea what to do from this point on.

At least with our project to work on, there was always something for us to talk about. Sure, the conversation would occasionally drift to other topics, but we could come back to the project if we got stuck. Now what were we supposed to do?

***

“Another episode?” I asked, looking over at Simon, whose head was resting on the seat cushion behind him as he smiled dopily.

We’d ended up on the floor in the family room, sitting with our backs against the front of the sofa, because Simon just couldn’t bear the thought of not cuddling Blueberry while we watched a couple episodes of _The Umbrella Academy_ —and she wasn’t allowed on the sofa. Simon had whined about that a bit before opting to sit on the rug next to her. And I joined him shortly afterwards, under the guise of wanting to pet her as well; but really I wanted to be close to him. (She was just a bonus.)

Blueberry had fallen asleep, halfway across Simon’s lap, but he kept his hand on her head like he was comforting her—or maybe she was comforting him.

“I don’t think I’ll make it through another one,” he said with a laugh.

“Right. Yeah.” I was disappointed that the _sleeping_ part of the sleepover was already here. I could have stayed like this for ages, sitting next to Simon with the dog between us, both of us absent-mindedly stroking her back until our hands touched once in a while, giving me a jolt. I would immediately pull my hand away, every time, but I don’t think he even noticed.

He looked down at Blueberry for a second and then back at me, like he found it amusing that she had him trapped like this.

I let out a small laugh and tried to rouse her. “Come on, Gandalf, get up.”

“…Gandalf?”

“Oh, er…” I’d forgotten that I had _company_ with me, and should have used the dog’s proper name. “I just… call her that sometimes. She’s a greyhound, so… you know.”

Simon broke into a grin and started scratching Blueberry’s head again. “That’s funny.”

(Hearing the boy I liked tell me that something I said was funny made my brain short-circuit for a moment, and I was grateful that he was paying too much attention to the dog to notice my internal malfunction.)

I managed to get her up, freeing Simon to stand at last, and the three of us made our way towards the main staircase, at the front of the house. Blueberry bounded up the stairs ahead of us, and I saw her duck into my bedroom before we even reached the top. (She always slept in my room—it annoyed my sisters, especially Mordelia, who seemed to think the dog was _hers_.)

“So…” I said quietly, turning to face Simon once I got to the last step. “The guest room is at the end of the hall, if you… want.”

“Oh.” He stopped a couple of steps down from me and frowned. “I thought… Isn’t the point of a sleepover to sleep in the same room?”

My chest felt tight all of a sudden at the thought of Simon sleeping in my room. _What did I get myself into?_

“Otherwise I may as well have just gone home, right?” he added.

“I—I guess.” I hadn’t really considered this part when I suggested he sleep over, since I’d never really had a _sleepover_ before. I’d had _guests_ , of course, but that was what the _guest room_ was for. Apparently this was different.

Simon smiled as he climbed the last few stairs to meet me, and I led him towards my room, a couple doors down the hall. I turned on the light when we got in and shut the door behind us. But I hovered near it while he looked around.

He spent a minute taking it all in before heading right over to Blueberry, who was already lying in her own bed on the floor at the foot of my bed. She lifted her head when Simon approached, though, as if she were just as happy to see him as I was. (He had that effect on people and dogs alike, I supposed.)

“So,” he said, looking over at me from his crouched position on the floor, with his arms wrapped around the dog’s neck, “have you got a sleeping bag I can use, or…?”

“Oh, er, my sister’s got one…” I said, and I realized this was yet one more thing I hadn’t though through when I practically begged Simon to stay. “But it’s really small, so you wouldn’t fit.”

Simon glanced up at the bed, and panic flickered through me, mixed with… something. I hoped he couldn’t tell, when he looked back at me.

“That’s a double, right?” he said, gesturing towards the bed with his thumb.

I had to swallow down the anxiety that was rising in my throat. “King.”

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, _“Shall we?”_ and I shrugged in return, trying to act like I was completely cool with the idea of sharing a bed with the boy I’d fantasized about for years.

“I assume you don’t wet the bed or anything,” I said as I stepped away from the door, but I immediately regretted quipping in that moment.

Simon gave me a puzzled look, though he seemed slightly amused. “Uhh, no?”

“Er, right, good.” I gave him a tight nod and walked past him, over to my dresser, where I pulled out two sets of pyjamas. I figured he would need one. “That’s for you,” I said when I dropped one set onto my bed for him.

“Oh. Good idea,” he said with a chuckle as he rose to his feet. “I’m glad you remembered, ‘cause I didn’t.”

I wasn’t sure if it was weird of me to offer them, so I felt a bit self-conscious about the decision now. “I’m just going to… change,” I said, motioning towards my bathroom as I backed away.

I saw Simon walk over to the bed as I shut the bathroom door, and I assumed that meant he was going to change out there. So I waited an extra couple minutes after changing and brushing my teeth, just so I wouldn’t accidentally walk in on anything that I didn’t want to see. (Or, rather, that I _shouldn’t_ see.)

When I finally did leave the bathroom, I wasn’t at all surprised to find that Simon was on the floor with Blueberry again, though this time he was wearing my pyjamas.

“I… I left a new toothbrush next to the sink that you can use,” I said, stopping a few feet away from him.

He smiled up at me again. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

“Heh, I guess.”

He stood again, giving me a friendly slap on the shoulder as he passed me on his way to the bathroom, and I froze for a second. Blueberry looked up at me without lifting her head, her bored yet judgmental eyes taunting me.

“Fuck off, Gandalf,” I muttered before switching off the main light in exchange for a bedside lamp. I stopped by the foot of the bed, though, and squatted beside her so I could smooth my hand down her back and kiss the top of her head. “Sorry, Blob, you know I love you.”

She shifted a little, trying to get comfortable for sleeping, like she couldn’t care less that I was there.

“Aww, do you like Simon better than me? After everything I’ve done for you?” I asked as I scratched her ears. “Well, I guess I can’t really blame you. It must be nice getting so much attention from a cute boy, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Yeah… You’re a lucky bitch.” I kissed her head again before I realized that Simon had just come out of the bathroom.

“Did you just call your dog a bitch?” he said, standing between the doorway and the bed when I looked up at him.

“It’s a term of endearment.”

He laughed and came over to crouch next to me, rubbing Blueberry’s face between his hands. “Is Baz being a meanie to you? Do I need to bring you home with me instead? I think so.”

I couldn’t help but snort at that, causing Simon to look at me. “Good luck with that. She’s a handful.”

He scoffed with mock indignation and turned back to the dog; she actually lifted her head for him, too. “How can he say that about you? You’re so sweet and beautiful!” he said, leaning forward to wrap his arms around her.

“Try and remember that while you’re scooping up after her in the garden, then,” I said, snickering when Simon frowned at me.

“She’s worth it, okay?” he said.

“You think I don’t know that?” I said as I reached out to resume stroking Blueberry’s back while Simon kept hugging her head. “She may be a bitch, but she’s _my_ bitch—Wait. That didn’t come out right.”

He started cracking up, and I did shortly after, laughing with him until Blueberry lowered her head again and closed her eyes, pointedly telling us to piss off so she could sleep.

“Wait, is she not going to sleep in the big bed?” Simon asked as we stood up.

“She’s not allowed to,” I told him, but he looked disappointed about that, so I quickly added, “She knows that’s the rule.”

“Oh.” He looked down at her sadly. “Goodnight, Blueberry. I’m sorry Baz doesn’t love you enough to let you sleep in the big bed.”

“I’m letting you sleep in it, aren’t I?” I said mockingly. Seeing the embarrassed look on Simon’s face, though, made me wish I hadn’t said anything.

“Hah, right. Yeah. Good point.”

I found myself unable to make the first move towards the bed, but thankfully Simon seemed to have no problem doing so. He walked right up to the head of the bed and started to draw back the duvet before stopping to give me an apologetic look.

“Wait, do you have a certain side you like?” he asked, which surprised me.

“Er, this is fine,” I said as I stepped up to the opposite side. I usually rolled from one side to the other in my sleep, so I’d never really considered that I had a _side_ , though this was the one I always climbed into.

It was weird, getting into a bed with another person there. I hadn’t done that since I was a kid, visiting my grandparents at the same time as my cousins, so there weren’t enough beds for everyone to have their own. That was very much _not the same_ , though.

Normally I needed to lie on my side to fall asleep, but I opted instead to lie on my back and looked up at the ceiling, because it felt like the most neutral position to be in, at the moment. That’s what I thought, at least. Simon didn’t seem to have any such concerns, lying on his side, facing me.

I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to fall asleep with him watching me—not that he’d actually be watching me, but still, it was unnerving—so I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to try and focus on something else.

“Are you going to sleep already?” he asked quietly, and I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” I couldn’t imagine any other reason we’d be in my bed if it weren’t to sleep. Well, no other _realistic_ reason.

“Yeah… But I thought maybe you’d wanna…” he shrugged as his sentence trailed off, and I stopped breathing for a second, “…talk some more?”

“Er, yeah, I suppose… we could,” I said once I allowed myself to exhale. “Do you… have something in mind?”

Simon lowered his gaze to the space between us and furrowed his brow. “Well, I was just wondering,” he said, looking back up at me after a moment, “do you think Vanya really doesn’t have a power?”

I frowned at him for a second before the words registered. “Are you talking about the show?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, um…” I looked up at the ceiling again to consider my answer. “Well, I think she must have _something_ , because it doesn’t seem like their father would have kept her if she didn’t, right?”

“That’s a pretty dark way to look at it,” he said, and when I looked back at him he was grimacing like the thought pained him.

“But he wasn’t really their father, right?”

“He adopted them. That makes him their father.”

I turned fully onto my side so I could face Simon without straining my neck. “He didn’t act like the kind of father who loves unconditionally, though,” I said. “He collected those kids for a reason. He kept them for a reason. He didn’t care about them at all.”

“How do you know?”

I wasn’t sure why Simon was getting so defensive over a fictional character, especially one who appeared to be such a bastard. “Did he seem like a loving father to you?”

He scowled, glaring at the spot between us again. “At least he was there.”

“As opposed to…?”

“Not.”

When his eyes met mine again, I realized I’d accidentally touched on something personal, here. “Oh.”

“I dunno,” he added, tucking his head toward his chest. “Maybe that’s not necessarily better, but…” He let out a resigned laugh before returning his attention to me. “I guess I wouldn’t know.”

He forced a smile, a smile that was clearly the result of shoving his actual feelings aside. It was hard to watch.

“Sorry,” was all I could come up with to say, even though it felt wildly inadequate for the situation.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a shrug.

“I shouldn’t have said… I mean, I know you just live with your mum, but I thought—”

“It’s fine, Baz. Honestly.” He still seemed so sad, though, I wished there was some way I could cheer him up—some way besides letting the dog on the bed.

I wanted to hug him, but I wasn’t sure if we were close enough friends for that, yet. (Close enough to share a bed, though?)

I’d actually been trying to avoid all physical contact with him, ever since I realized my feelings for him weren’t platonic. Which was easy enough back when we were classmates who barely spoke to one another, but the challenge grew increasingly difficult the more time we spent together this week. I just didn’t want him to be uncomfortable around me.

I didn’t think he knew, anyway. That I was gay. But even if he didn’t, it was possible that one day I would tell him, and he would look back at everything that had happened between us and feel like I’d been taking advantage of our burgeoning friendship. Hell, he could end up feeling like that about this moment right here, in my bed with me. _What was I thinking, inviting him to stay?_

“Baz?” Simon added in a whisper, after an indiscernible length of time, and I finally noticed that I’d been staring right through him for a while. “What are you thinking?”

“What? Why?” I said quickly, like I was afraid he’d somehow been reading my thoughts. (If he’d been reading my thoughts, though, he wouldn’t have had to ask me what I was thinking.)

He smiled a little—more genuinely than before. “You just looked all thinky for a bit.”

“It was nothing,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “I never think.”

“Right, that’s how you end up first in our class,” he replied, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

“Memorizing and regurgitating information isn’t the same as thinking.”

“Still, I suspect you think a lot…”

“Oh?”

Simon’s smile morphed into a smirk. “You probably overthink a lot, too.”

I laughed at that, but it came out barely more than a breath. _Understatement of the year._

“That’s why I was a bit surprised,” he added.

“About what?”

“You. Spontaneously inviting me to sleep over.”

I felt blood rush to my face, so I angled my head down to hide it as much as I could. I knew this whole thing was stupid, I was just hoping he wouldn’t point it out right in front of me.

He poked one of my forearms, which were folded in front of me. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, okay?” he said. “I just wasn’t expecting you… Anyway, it’s cool that you did, right?”

“I guess,” I mumbled, trying to keep as much of my face hidden with my pillow as I could. Luckily my hair falling in my face helped a bit, too.

“I mean, imagine if you had overthought that decision as much as you did about the cue cards for our presentation,” he went on, and I lifted my gaze enough to look at him again, without moving my head. He was grinning. “You never would have asked me to stay, and I would have missed out on hours of quality time with your dog.”

I smiled despite my best efforts not to.

He watched me for a moment until I had to look away again. I felt my breath hitch in my chest when he unexpectedly reached over and pushed my hair back off my face. My eyes must have been wide as dinner plates at the time.

“That’s better,” he said in a self-satisfied manner, once my whole face was visible again. He was still grinning. “It was weird trying to have a conversation with a mop.”

I snorted another laugh before brushing my hair down over my face in protest, which made him laugh, too. (I could never get sick of hearing that laugh.)

He pushed the hair off my face again, and I immediately pulled it back down—only this time he pushed my hand away while I was doing it. We wrestled with our arms for a minute, each of us trying to control the placement of my hair, and our laughter soon became breathy giggling, which I was very glad no one was around to witness. When I managed to get a good enough grasp on his hand to interlace our fingers, making it harder for him to do anything with it, it occurred to me that this was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

He was going to think I’d tricked him. That I hid the fact I was gay so I could gain his trust and get close to him, and then exploit that closeness to fulfill my own desires—he was going to hate me forever. I had to do something about this. Anything.

“I’m gay,” I blurted out. Clearly, I was panicked. Just one poor decision after another.

Simon frowned a little and looked at our clasped hands—and I quickly let go. “Okay…” he said, meeting my eyes with his, like he was searching for an explanation.

“Just… I wasn’t… trying to trick you,” I said, holding my arms close to my chest, to keep as much distance between us as I could.

He squinted at me, though the corner of his mouth started curving up. “What?”

“This—This wasn’t all a plot to get you in my bed.” _Shit, I shouldn’t have said that._

Thankfully, he seemed to find that more hilarious than creepy. “Noted,” he said, barely able to contain his mirth.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself as I covered my face with my hands.

“Baz…” He pried both my hands away from my face and held them down so I couldn’t hide anymore. “Did you think I was going to be weirded out that you’re gay?”

“I don’t… know.”

“Well, I’m not weirded out.”

“Okay… Good.”

“In any case,” Simon continued, finally letting go of my hands, “I’m still glad you asked me to stay. It’s been cool hanging out. I wish we’d done it sooner.”

I nodded in agreement, as I was afraid of what might happen if I tried to use words.

“All right, well,” he said with a yawn, “I’m about to crash, anyway.”

“Me, too.”

“In that case…” He smiled mischievously and brushed my hair down to cover my face this time. “Goodnight, Baz.”

“Goodnight,” I said with a light chuckle before rolling away to turn off the lamp next to me.

“I hope you know,” Simon whispered in the dark once my back was to him, “I’m stealing your dog tomorrow.”

***

“Baz…”

Who said that? How did they know my name? I was a spy; my true identity was supposed to be a secret.

“Baaa-aaaz.”

Whoever was doing this was trying to taunt me. I reached for my gun under my jacket, only to find that it wasn’t there. There wasn’t even a holster. I looked down as I patted down my sides to find my gun, only to discover that I wasn’t even wearing my trousers. _What the fuck?_

My legs didn’t feel cold at all, surprisingly. They were toasty warm, even though there was a light breeze in the air. I could feel it on my face. I looked up and down the corridor, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

“Baz, wake up.”

Wait, was I dreaming this? Why would somebody tell me to wake up? Well, it would explain the missing trousers…

The light breeze on my face turned into a brief gust, and I shut my eyes tight, wrinkling my nose because it felt itchy. When I opened my eyes again, however, I found myself face to face with Simon, beaming at me.

“What are you doing?” I said, my voice hoarse from sleep.

“I’m trying to wake you up.” He seemed proud of himself for accomplishing his goal.

My blinks were longer and heavier than usual as I adjusted to the daylight in the room. “Were you… blowing on me?”

Simon snickered a little and then blew another puff of air at my face, causing me to sputter for a moment. I considered retaliating, but I was afraid of subjecting him to my morning breath—he, I’d noticed, must have already gotten out of bed and brushed his teeth, because he was minty fresh.

I rolled away to check my mobile on my nightstand, and then remembered that I left it down in the family room last night. “What time is it?” I asked, turning back to face him.

He started towards the nightstand on his side—he’d brought his mobile upstairs with him—but he couldn’t get to it before my bedroom door creaked open.

“You’re supposed to knock, Mordelia!” I said loudly, not even looking to see if it was her. But it was always her. She was oldest of my young siblings—though merely seven years old—and the most impish of them.

“Why?” Mordelia whined as she stepped fully into the room.

I sat up and glared at her. “Because it’s rude not to.”

“I thought you were sleeping,” she said.

“All the more reason not to come barging in.”

She scowled, and I had to push my tongue against my teeth to keep from smiling—she looked ridiculous when she tried to be angry. “I wanted to see Blue.”

“Fine, come get Blob and take her outside,” I said, waving my hand towards the foot of the bed. I noticed the dog lift her head, perking up at the word _Blob_ , and I almost laughed.

“Her name’s Blue!” Mordelia said irritably, going over to pet her.

“She’s Gandalf the Blob. Now take her outside, she’s probably got a present for you.”

My sister frowned at me again, but then her eyes shifted to my right, like she only just realized that Simon was now sitting in the bed next to me. “Why are you here?” she asked, though she sounded more confused than angry now.

“I slept over,” he said, though he looked over and gave me a shrug, like he wasn’t sure that was the right answer.

“I already told Mum; she knows Simon’s here,” I added. “So get lost. And take Blob with you.”

“Blue!” she said emphatically as she gently coaxed Blueberry away from her bed.

“ _Blob_.”

I waited until my sister and the dog were gone—I had to call after her to shut the door behind her, though—and broke into laughter as I collapsed back on my pillow. “Sorry about that,” I said, looking over at Simon, who was holding himself up on one elbow.

“’S’okay,” he said with a smile, but his expression soon grew more concerned as he started to speak again. “So, um… Before I embarrass myself, I should probably ask… Does your family know?”

“Know what?”

“What you… told me last night?”

It took me a minute to figure out what he was talking about. “Oh! Er, no, no they don’t know that I—I mean, haven’t told anyone before, so… They aren’t going to think that you…”

“It’s okay, I just didn’t want to say anything in case—Not that I was going to mention it!” he added quickly. “But if they did know and I was, like, weirdly tiptoeing around it… I dunno.”

I looked down towards my hands on my chest to avoid his eyes. “Well, you’re the only one who knows.”

“You—You know I’m not going to tell anyone, right? At school, even.”

“What? Oh, no, I know you wouldn’t. I wasn’t even thinking it—”

“Good.” He was smiling shyly when I glanced over at him again. “So, I, er… I need to eat something. Like, really soon.”

“Oh, I guess you’re a breakfast person,” I said, but that made him frown at me.

“Isn’t everyone?” he asked incredulously.

“I… don’t have it every day…” I admitted, though the look he gave me afterwards made me feel slightly ashamed.

“That’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever heard. Get up.” Simon climbed out of the bed on his side and gestured vigorously for me to get out as well.

“Fine.” I grudgingly hauled myself up and skirted around the bed. “I have to shower first, though.”

“You shower before breakfast on a _Sunday_?”

“What else would I do? Just go downstairs in my pyjamas?”

“Yes!” he said, like this should have been obvious. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“That’s… not what we do here…” I furrowed my brow, though; it was the first time I’d considered that people would do this any other way. But, really, _why wouldn’t they?_

I wasn’t up to the task of making waves by showing up at the breakfast table in my pyjamas just yet, though, so I was relieved when Simon conceded.

“All right, fine. It’s your house,” he said with his hands raised in surrender. “But, for the record, I think it’s a stupid rule.”

“Noted.”

“Really stupid.”

I sneered at him when I continued towards the bathroom, but he could tell it was fake and started laughing, so I cracked, too.

“Just make it quick,” he added, giving me another playful shoulder slap as I passed him. “I’m starving.”

***

Once both of us had showered and dressed—I let Simon borrow one of my t-shirts, but he wore his own jeans again, since mine would have been too long—we went downstairs to eat. Even I managed to get a bit of food down; that was sometimes a challenge for me in the mornings.

The rest of my family had already eaten by that point, but Simon was satisfied with just having some toast for breakfast, slathered in butter and jam. A lot of butter, actually.

He didn’t make any move towards going home, even once we finished eating, and I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. No matter when he left, it would feel too soon, anyway.

When I mentioned that I usually took the dog for a bit of a hike before lunch on Sundays, Simon’s face lit up and he practically begged to come along. I even let him hold the leash to walk her as we made our way towards a nearby park that connected to a walking trail, spanning the length of the city. I would usually pick a direction and walk about an hour or so before heading back.

“This is perfect,” he said when we started down the path, in the direction of the river. “My house is this way, so it’ll save my mum a trip to come get me.”

“Oh.” I nodded in acknowledgment, and tried to hide the fact that I was disappointed he wouldn’t be returning with me. “Cool.”

He looked over at me, as we walked on either side of the dog, and grinned. “Plus, I’m the one walking Blueberry, so it will be super easy for me to steal her.”

She seemed positively elated, trotting alongside him with her head held high. If it weren’t for the fact that it would completely break my heart—and my sister’s—I would almost consider letting him keep her, because they seemed to really like each other. But there was no way I was letting her go, not even for him. He’d just have to spend more time with me if he wanted to see her again…

We ended up walking a little farther than I normally would, if it were just Blueberry and me, but I wasn’t in a rush. I was enjoying this too much to ever want it to end.

It was nice to know that Simon and I could find lots to talk about, even without our project to fall back on. In fact, I’d completely forgotten about it until he started slowing down—it seemed we were approaching the end of the road, for us.

“So, I guess I left my note cards at your house,” he said as we veered down a smaller path off the main trail, which led us through a thicket of trees. Presumably, it was a shortcut towards his house. “You’ll bring them with yours tomorrow, right?”

“Of course,” I replied, though it took me a second to switch gears from pleasant conversation to schoolwork.

He slowed all the way down until he was just standing in place, even though we weren’t through the trees yet. “I suppose I should give this back,” he added, handing over Blueberry’s leash with a dramatic sigh.

“Thank—” I said, though I paused when his hand lingered near mine as he passed the leash over, “—You.”

“Baz,” he said quietly, without letting go of the leash that we were now both holding, “can I tell you something?”

“What?” I lowered my voice to match his.

He glanced down at our hands and then looked back at me, biting his lip nervously. “I, um… I sort of already knew… that you were gay.”

“Oh…” _How could he have known that? Nobody knew that._

“Well, I mean, I suspected it,” he said with a small chuckle. “Or… maybe I just… hoped that you…”

_Hoped? Why would he…?_

Simon opened his mouth as if to say something else, but then closed it without, instead reaching up with his free hand to brush back some of the hair that had fallen in my face again.

“Are you?” I asked hesitantly, his hand still in my hair. “Gay, I mean.”

He smiled a little and shrugged as he twisted my ends around his fingers. “I dunno.”

“You don’t… know?”

“I haven’t really thought about it much,” he said, watching his hand for a moment before his eyes returned to mine. “I’ve thought about you a lot, though.”

It was difficult to process all of this. His hands, his eyes, his words, all making me feel like my world was about to change. Or maybe I just hoped it would.

“Thinking what, exactly?” I said in a whisper, because he seemed close enough now that I could. I hadn’t really noticed him closing in on me, though—or maybe I was the one closing in on him.

His hand paused at the side of my neck and his eyes scanned my face. “I want to kiss you.”

“That’s what you were think—”

“Now,” he cut in. “Is that okay?”

I nodded, although I wasn’t entirely sure if he was asking whether it was okay for him to _want_ to kiss me, or okay for him to actually…

 _Well_ , I thought as he pressed his lips to mine, _that answers that_.

I was too stunned to move at first—I couldn’t imagine it was all that enjoyable for him to kiss me that way, immobilized like a mannequin—but I soon eased into it as his fingers curled around the back of my neck reassuringly. I still didn’t know what I was doing, though, but it felt nice, and leaned into him more, squeezing the dog’s leash in one hand and holding his face in the other.

I’d gotten so wrapped up in it, that I was startled when Blueberry wedged herself between our legs, causing us to break apart. Clearly _somebody_ wasn’t getting enough attention.

Simon and I both laughed about it, and he crouched down to her eye level to rub her head. “Ohh, I’m gonna miss you!” he said, scratching her behind the ear. He then leaned in and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “How about I distract him until you can get away and we’ll run off together, yeah?”

I tightened my grip on her leash, just in case she got any crazy ideas, as Simon stood to face me. He gave me an innocent-looking smile and moved closer, like he was going to kiss me again. But I backed away a little.

“Nice try,” I said with a smirk as I wrapped the leash around my fist.

He tucked both his hands behind his back and took another step towards me. “Look, I can’t steal her away like this, can I?”

“You can still distract me, though.”

“Oh, can I?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Good to know.”

My face felt hot, so I turned my head away to try and hide it, chuckling nervously. He leaned in anyway, just to give me a peck on the cheek before backing off.

“I should get home,” he added. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Right…”

He smiled. “And hopefully not at school, too.”

I smiled back after a second, once I’d figured out what he was trying to say. “Definitely.”

Simon bent down to pet Blueberry once more to say goodbye. “You’re too beautiful,” he whined, throwing his arms around her for a hug. “Too pure for this world.”

I snorted and he looked up at me with narrowed eyes—still smiling, though.

He finished up his prolonged goodbyes to the dog, and a shy wave goodbye to me, and carried on down the path.

I glanced down at Blueberry as we walked in the opposite direction, back towards the trail to my house; it looked as though she had lost some her enthusiasm for the walk, now that Simon was gone. I didn’t blame her.

“Don’t worry, Gandalf, we’ll see the cute boy again soon.” I smiled a little at the thought. “Just don’t hog all his attention, all right?”

**Author's Note:**

> I will gladly take more prompt requests, based on [this list](https://f-ing-ruthless-baz.tumblr.com/post/183547405517/sentence-starters), or any other that you find! I like having these on hand to write in between bigger fics (though this one ended up about 3 times as long as I intended, heh).
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on tumblr, [@f-ing-ruthless-baz](https://f-ing-ruthless-baz.tumblr.com), and befriend me over there because I am so lonely.


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